Afterword
by Emerladoni
Summary: Because there is more than one story.


The Afterword

:_The story after the story_:

It starts with a simple thought, a simple twitch of the finger, a simple heartbreak.

And then it grows, blossoms, mutating and spreading, a fungus in her chest she wishes to spoon out, but can't, because it's not real. And so time becomes her enemy as this disease spreads through her and she feels her soul slowly dissolving. With each breeze, a little bit of her is taken away. With each gust, she is forgotten. And so, when she wakes up one morning to a brightly lit sky and a hard ground and a rough voice barking in her ear, she has a revelation.

She just wishes she could remember it.

Their first meeting without another person present was unpleasant, to say the least. Her chest had seized and tightened, and the fight-or-flight mechanism she had heard so much about didn't seem to apply to her. She froze. Her body, stiff and unyielding, became stiller than a rock, cracking under a pressure her small body could not bear.

But he didn't do anything. He just stared at her, molten eyes blinking in her direction. She didn't dare twitch for fear that he would be offended and might reveal his much loved poison whip, or perhaps the repulsive Tokijin.

After a couple minutes, she relaxed, ignoring the bark of the tree she leaned against as it bit into her back. The thin school girl uniform did little to protect her from the simple elements. He had yet to move. His outline at the edge of the small clearing wavered slightly, as the heat reached out to touch his lick at his snow white pant legs. She couldn't help but wonder if he was overheating under the oppressive sun. She was, and her clothes were just scraps compared to his.

She discarded the thoughts though, as a sweep of adrenaline went through her mind. He was walking. Towards her. Slow, graceful steps; the tall, lush grass practically parting before him as he headed in her direction.

She didn't stand. She didn't want to. She just looked up at him silent and expressionless as she stopped before her.

"Miko, I wish to know where InuYasha has gone."

She blinked, quick and silent, trying to clear her head. He seemed so tall, his presence nearly overbearing, suffocating. 'This man,' she thought, 'would be just as terrifying if he were human.'

"Miko," he repeated, "are you ill? I questioned you."

"Um, no," she mumbled, "Sorry. I don't know where he is."

His eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. Perhaps, she thought, he suspected she was lying to him. She wasn't. She had no clue to his wear bouts. She didn't want to know.

"Why do you need him?" She asked, hand coming up to shield her eyes.

He looked away. The muscles in his neck were tense, coiled. She had never noticed before that Sesshoumaru had a physical body beneath his icy demeanor. It was an odd thought, and it left her feeling slightly uncomfortable.

"It is of no importance," he said, "I will return at a later time."

He turned around, black leather boots making small imprints in the dehydrated dirt. She watched him until she could no longer see the ghostly glint of his hair in the glittering sunlight. Then she shut her eyes and tried not to think of youkai or hanyou or life.

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He wanted to kill her. He could barely leave the clearing without rushing back to rip her in half. That _human. _That _miko. _His brother's pet. The way she looked at him, with no terror in her soulful eyes, made him want to rip his claws through her delicate skin.

And the way she smelled....

He growled.

He had never had such urges before, with any living being. The urge to take her in his arms, toss her over his shoulder, and bring him with her, was almost stronger than the urge to strangle her. But he succumbed to neither, despite the voice in the back of his mind screaming for him to look at her more, to sit with her in the melting heat despite the impropriety of it.

He would kill her. That's what he would do. Next time he saw her. When he squashed these disgusting bodily needs that compelled him to touch her cheek, her neck, her....

Yes, death was only suitable.

The Miko would have to die.

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Disclaimer: I own nothing of InuYasha.

A/N: A new account, a new story. Enjoy. Reviews are appreciated.


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